


Murdock v. Nelson(’s Sofa)

by seguequeen



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Leather Kink, Light D/s, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-08 02:50:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4287945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seguequeen/pseuds/seguequeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Matt knew he had a thing about leather. The smooth length of a belt under his fingers never failed to get him going; wrapped around his neck with the edges biting at his skin, the sensation was divine. And the things</em> that <em>made him want, well, the less said of them the better.</em></p>
<p>When it's Matt's force of will vs Foggy and his leather sofa, Matt never stood a chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Matt knew he had a thing about leather. The reliability of an awkward boner during puberty when forced onto a leather chair or sofa had clued him in to that fact. The smooth length of a belt under his fingers never failed to get him going; wrapped around his neck with the edges biting at his skin, the sensation was divine. And the things _that_ made him want, well, the less said of them the better.

For all the Catholic guilt, he wasn’t… _ashamed_ of it, not exactly. But it wasn’t something he made public knowledge, either. He was careful to avoid leather goods when in mixed company. This included Foggy’s beat-up brown leather couch, at one point bestowed upon him by a grateful client in lieu of traditional payment. Matt had touched it, of course. He couldn’t help it. Just the quick pass of his hand over the age-soft leather left him weak-kneed and short of breath, imagining himself stretched out across it with nothing between the downright sinful surface and his skin. Any time he was forced to sit on it, he was scrupulous about keeping a layer of clothing against the sofa at all times. But even then, it put him decidedly _on edge_.

Eventually there came a night where Matt found himself beat to hell on  rooftop four blocks from Foggy’s apartment. He wasn’t hurt to the point that he needed Claire’s intervention, but a little help wouldn’t go amiss. It was tough going, stumbling down Foggy’s fire escape. Each step jarred his injuries further. He tasted iron and gingerly tongued at his split lip. He raised a scraped up hand to his face and felt a trickle of blood running down his chin. He grimaced and pulled open the window into Foggy’s apartment.

Foggy was sitting on the sofa reading, and he jumped when Matt all but fell through the open window.

“Don’t _do_ that! Nearly gave me a heart attack.” He got a good look at Matt and gave a low whistle. “Man, you look like hell.” He sighed. “Let’s see what I can do. Get your clothes off and take a seat,” he said, gesturing to a spot next to him on the sofa.

Matt froze.  “I… I’d hate to bleed all over your nice couch,” he finished quickly, praying Foggy would take him somewhere, anywhere, else.

Foggy just snorted. “It’s seen worse. And it has to be the couch, the bathroom light’s on the fritz again and I need the light out here to see what I’m doing. Strip and sit.”

Matt blew out a long breath. “I—yeah, okay.”

-

Foggy watched as Matt gingerly removed his clothing, revealing some vicious scrapes across his chest, a deep laceration on his right shoulder that was bleeding sluggishly, a dark red boot print at the small of his back, and myriad more faintly dark spots he was sure would blossom into deep bruises. He took a deep breath, then went to grab the first aid kit out of the bathroom.

When he returned, Matt was perched on the edge of the sofa, looking uncomfortable. _And who wouldn’t be, beat up like that?_ Foggy thought. He took a seat on the coffee table facing Matt, their knees knocking together as Foggy pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves.

“All right,” Foggy said, feeling as though his voice was unnaturally loud. “Let’s start with that shoulder.” He pulled out an antiseptic wipe and gently began cleaning up the blood slowly oozing from the wound. “Doesn’t look deep enough to need stitches, so that’s something,” he murmured as he worked, placing a large pad of gauze over the gash and taping it down. His fingers trailed lightly over Matt’s shoulder, across the scrapes on his chest, and down to his clearly bruised rips. “Are these broken? Do they need to be taped up?”

-

Relaxed and safe in Foggy’s care, Matt was quickly becoming overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensation: Foggy’s light, careful touches, his breath on Matt’s neck as he worked on his shoulder, the leather under his thighs. The heat radiating off Foggy’s body and onto Matt’s bare skin felt unbearably warm in the room, and he could tell Foggy was beginning to sweat. Overcome, it took a few moments for him to register Foggy’s question. “Taped—no. No, just bruised.”

“If you’re sure,” Foggy said, worry evident in his tone.

“I’m sure,” Matt said quickly, needing to get out of this situation as quickly as possible.

“Okay, okay.” Foggy began sweeping another of the soft wipes across the scrapes on Matt’s chest. “I don’t think I need to put anything on these to wrap them up, the skin’s not broken and you’re not bleeding.”

Matt barely heard the words, swamped by the pulses of desire that each sharp shock of pain brought. All of his focus was going into exhaling slowly with each new throb of heat. He couldn’t risk a catch in his breath letting Foggy know what he was really feeling.

Finally, Foggy set the wipe aside. “Okay. Lay down now, on your front, so I can do something about that mother of a boot-shaped bruise coming in on your back.”

Matt swallowed audibly. Fuck. He tentatively swung his legs up onto the sofa and turned over onto his stomach, nearly groaning in a manner that no one could mistake for pain as he pressed up against the couch. He was already chubbing up against the cushions, and spared a fleeting moment to be grateful he was lying face _down_ , and even more grateful that Foggy’s senses were nothing like his own.

Foggy made a small humming noise. “I don’t see it here, but I think I’ve got some stuff that would be good for that bruise. Be right back.”

Matt didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded.

-

Foggy crossed back into the bathroom and rattled around in the medicine cabinet looking for the jar he was sure was in there. After finding it instead under the sink, he shrugged and hurried back to Matt. When he reentered the room, he was struck still by the sight in front of him. Matt, all stretched out in Foggy’s space, nearly naked and sporting a full body blush that Foggy could only call adorable.

Even with the injuries all over his skin Matt was absurdly lovely, pink and pale against the rich brown leather of the couch. Fuck, and he was going to put his hands all over him. He knew his heartbeat was starting to speed up, and hoped Matt was too out of it to notice. He returned to his seat on the coffee table, opened the jar, and scooped out a bit of the salve. His fingers hovered above Matt’s skin for a moment.

“I’ll try not to press too hard. Tell me if I’m hurting you.”

-

 _Tell me if I’m hurting you_. Foggy’s slick fingers met the small of his back, and it took all he had not to move. The smell of the leather and a faint echo of Foggy’s laundry detergent filled his senses; he could barely hear Foggy’s breath over the pounding of his own heart. His entire world narrowed to the feeling of the couch against his front and Foggy’s hands on his back, fingers sweeping lower and lower.

He was positively drunk on it. He couldn’t help a small abortive jerk of his hips, then stilled and tensed.

-

Foggy knew his senses were lousy compared to Matt’s, but he wasn’t exactly oblivious, either. There was no mistaking the way Matt had just moved. But Foggy knew he couldn’t leap to conclusions. An endorphin rush could get the best of anyone, after all. That said, he could always test the waters.

“You feel tense, Matty. Let me work some of that out for you.”

-

Matt startled when Foggy stood up and swung a leg over Matt’s thighs. Foggy settled down against them, stroking firmly down Matt’s spine.

Matt couldn’t hold back a deep moan, or the quick little breaths and whimpers that followed as he squirmed under Foggy’s ministrations. His ass was mere inches from Foggy’s cock, and he wondered if Foggy noticed. He could feel the blush spread out across his skin darkening, and Foggy’s fingers were soaking up the heat.

-

Foggy knew he had to be missing something. He had been close to Matt before, had touched him plenty, and it had never gotten a reaction like this. What was different this time? Experimentally, he pressed a bit harder on the bruise at the base of Matt’s spine and ran his thumbs down, practically to Matt’s tailbone. Matt’s hips made another tiny jerk, and his fingers flexed against the leather of the couch.

Foggy considered the evidence for a moment, then took a long slow breath, gathering his courage. He leaned down over Matt’s back to the point where his lips were nearly brushing Matt’s ear. “So, Matty. Is it the leather, the pain, or me?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Is it the leather, the pain, or me?”

Matt gasped. “Foggy, please.”

Foggy shifted over him until he could feel Foggy’s smile against the nape of his neck. “It’s all of it, huh?” He sat up straight once more and pressed down firmly on a bruise coming in on Matt’s left shoulder blade. Matt couldn’t keep a strangled cry from escaping his lips. Foggy reached up to pet his hair softly. “That’s my good boy, Matty. Let me hear you.”

With Foggy’s words spurring him on, Matt felt delirious with sensation. He was manhandled onto his knees with the cool leather back of the sofa pressed deliciously against the stinging abrasions on his chest. He could feel Foggy pulling his briefs down and off, then hands running over the curve of his ass. Foggy repeated the gesture a few times, and then Matt yelped as Foggy’s hot, wet tongue licked a stripe from balls to taint, then began flicking little licks around his opening.

“Foggy, _Foggy_ , _please_ ,” he begged as he writhed against the cushions, unsure whether he was trying to get more or get away. “You can’t just, oh, _oh_ ,” he moaned as the point of Foggy’s tongue thrust inside him. Foggy pulled back for a moment and ran his hands over the beard burn his end-of-the-day stubble had left on Matt’s ass the back of his thighs. At the feeling, tears started to well up in Matt’s eyes, and he blinked rapidly.

Before he knew what was happening, Foggy had him flipped over and seated firmly against the leather. “Now you wait right here for me like a good boy. You can do that, can’t you, Matty?”

Matt nodded, his eyes squeezed shut to keep Foggy from seeing the wetness there. He tried to track Foggy’s movements as he left. He vaguely heard a drawer open and shut, and the bathroom sink running, but that was all he could make out in his over-sensitized state. Next thing he knew Foggy had returned and rearranged them on the sofa so Matt was seated astride Foggy’s lap. Foggy began pressing open-mouthed kisses across Matt’s collarbone, up his neck and jaw, and finally onto his lips. Foggy tasted of mint and Matt hissed into the kiss at the feeling of Foggy’s mouth against his split lip.

Foggy’s hands moved behind Matt’s back and there was a _snick_ of a cap being popped open.  He then reached down between them and circled a slick finger around Matt’s hole. “This okay, Matty?”

-

Matt nodded violently, and Foggy grinned, petting his clean hand over Matt’s hair. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. Just you wait.” He slowly fingered Matt open, relishing the way Matt’s back arched and his eyes flew open when Foggy found his prostate.

“F—Foggy,” Matt whispered, and Foggy watched as tears began to leak from the corners of Matt’s eyes. He stroked his fingers in and out of Matt’s body, and Matt kept choking out the most delicious sounds. He brought his other hand up to squeeze Matt’s injured shoulder. Matt’s mouth opened in a silent scream, and Foggy placed a kiss in the hollow of his throat.

“So good for me, Matty,” he murmured against Matt’s skin.

Matt swallowed, his throat working. “Foggy, please. I want you to fuck me.”

Foggy smiled. “As you wish.” He opened his pants and rolled a condom down his aching cock, slicking it with lube. “Lift up for me, Matty.” Matt quickly obliged, raising himself up with trembling thighs until Foggy was positioned right at his entrance. He tried to thrust down hard, but Foggy’s firm grip on his arms prevented it, instead guiding him to slowly sink down until Foggy was fully buried inside him. Foggy’s eyes fluttered shut. “Oh Matty, you have no idea how good you feel .” He gave an experimental thrust upward, and Matt’s breath hitched. Matt tried a thrust of his own, but Foggy held him fast.

“Foggy, please, let me move,” Matt panted.

Foggy locked his hands together around Matt’s back and pressed a kiss against his chest. “Go on then. Take what you need.” Fresh tears fell from Matt’s eyes as he began working himself up and down on Foggy’s cock. “Fuck, Matty, you’re amazing,” Foggy whispered. “Love y—how you feel.”

“Foggy, more, _harder_ ,” Matt demanded. “Use me, _hurt_ me, just give me more.”

Foggy stroked a hand down Matt’s back. “Whatever you need.” He started rolling his hips up to meet Matt’s thrusts, one arm wrapped around Matt’s waist, nails of his other hand running over the scrapes on Matt’s chest. Matt was crying in earnest now, squirming and making broken little _ah, ah_ sounds with every thrust.

-

Even inside his own head, Matt couldn’t describe how he was feeling. He was barely aware of his tears, and no longer ashamed of the sounds he was making. Everything was thoroughly encompassed by what Foggy was making him feel. The sound of their combined heartbeats was pounding in his ears, but he continued hanging on Foggy’s every word.

“God, the things I could do to you with a flogger…” Foggy breathed out against his ear, and Matt moaned, both at the sensation and the idea. The thud of heavy leather against his shoulders, against his ass and thighs… he shivered.

Distantly, he was aware that Foggy’s thrusts were becoming more and more erratic, and that the man himself was chanting, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” under his breath. Matt leaned in and silenced him with a kiss, deep and filthy as he could make it. When he pulled back, Foggy moaned. “I’m gonna come real soon, Matty. You want to come before or after me?”

“Don’t care,” Matt panted. “Just want it to be good for you.”

At his words, Foggy let out one last groan, then Matt felt Foggy’s cock pulsing inside of him. After taking a few gasping breaths, Foggy gently pulled out and tied off the condom, tossing it onto the used antiseptic wipes. He rolled them so Matt was once more pressed against the couch cushions and sank to his knees on the floor between Matt’s spread legs, leaning in and swallowing over half Matt’s cock in one go.

“Foggy!” Matt cried, trying to buck up into the wet heat of Foggy’s mouth but held down by the arm across his hips. Foggy pulled off for a moment to bite at the soft skin of Matt’s inner thigh, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

“Fuck,” Foggy whispered, rubbing his thumb over the hickey. He got his mouth back around Matt’s cock, twirling his tongue around the head with every pull. Matt reached down and buried his fingers in the soft strands of Foggy’s hair, not pulling or pushing, just anchoring himself.

Foggy cupped Matt’s balls in one hand, massaging them lightly, before sliding his fingers back to play with the rim of Matt’s used hole. As he slid two fingers inside, the heat coiling inside Matt burst, and he started to come. Foggy sucked him gently through it, only pulling off when Matt began twitching with over-sensitivity.

For a moment Matt dimly observed Foggy rustling around under the coffee table, then he felt a soft blanket being wrapped around him, and Foggy wiping away his tears. “You wait right here. I’m going to get you some juice.” Matt nodded haltingly, and wrapped himself up tighter. In what felt like seconds, Foggy was back, pulling Matt into his lap and gently raising a glass of apple juice to his lips. Matt took small sips and hummed softly. “Thank you Foggy,” he mumbled. “Taking such good care of me.”

Foggy kissed Matt’s lips softly. “Always, Matty. Always.” For the next several minutes he gave Matt sips of juice and wiped away any more tears that fell. When Matt was breathing calmly again, Foggy kissed his cheek and asked, “You feel up to moving to bed?”

Matt considered this for a moment, then nodded slowly. Foggy shuffled Matt off his lap and rose to his feet. He helped Matt stand, keeping the blanket wrapped around him, and gently guided him into the bedroom. In short order he had Matt tucked in, and quickly shed his clothes and joined him. “How are you feeling?”

Matt let out a long, contented sigh. “Good. I feel… good. Floaty. But good.” He snuggled himself up against Foggy’s side, and Foggy turned to sling an arm over Matt’s waist.

“I’m glad,” Foggy said softly, lips practically brushing Matt’s as he spoke. “I always want to make you feel good.”

“Good,” Matt mumbled. “I… I love…” his words trailed off into a light snore, and Foggy smiled fondly before gently kissing Matt’s forehead.

“Love you, too, buddy,” Foggy whispered, rolled to click off the bedside lamp, and turned back to wrap Matt up in his arms. “I love you, too.”


End file.
